Grammar is a way of knowing.
A clause shapes air into omen.
Fate lends its archival ear.
We sleep, said I, we parse desire.
—for they loved us not, nor knew…
Else, else, O God the singer—
The song flows into the idea of song
cast from the innermost stream.
With juniper and draught she tames
the snake, the tree gets fleeced.
A name is not enough to define its thing.
Immeasurable matter, these words we spell
my body’s tether to perennial soul.
The particles around our performance iridesce.
It is choice that changes the voyage and we
without ever declaring its name.